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User blog:Psychomantis108/Story: Myths of Mundus: Dark Pilgrimage - Chapter 15: Refuge
The Wilderness of the Silver Road had died down, the animals returned to their serene state, reducing the constant chatter of birds and small creatures to a deadly silence once more, where only the crickets and the owls picked it up again. It was in the midst of this wilderness, in Red Ruby Cave, that Arlas' group dwelled, recovering from their recent encounters with Ymir's group. Both Nair and Bologra had recieved quite a heavy beating and Arlas herself still felt her head ringing from the boot to the face that she had recieved mere hours earlier. The three of them sat in silence, sleeping as they were all too exhausted to keep watch, they had a big day ahead of them tomorrow, if they wanted to make it to the cave on the boarder and if they did? They would need to get their strength together and assuming that Ymir's camp had a high amount of casualties, the group had several hours to recover before sunlight. If they moved out at the break of dawn, they would be able to reach the boarder and hopefully see this thing through, long before Ymir's people had collected themselves and were able to attack. ---- Arlas' eyes slowly opened the next morning as she found herself coming to, her head slowly pulled itself upwards as she winced at the crick in her neck. She was thankfully facing the Cave's entrance or else she would have thought that she had gone blind, since the cave was pitch black inside. The Bosmeri Acolyte could see the door, at the end of the long, dark tunnel, presented to her inside a purely white boarder. She slowly rose to her feet as she felt her shoulder blades and back ache, from being pressed against an uneven, rock hard surface all night, she rolled her neck around and rubbed it as she finally brought herself upright. The Bosmer accidentally knocked a stone, with her foot as she stretched, causing it to crackle as it moved along the stone floor, prompting Bologra to jerk awake, startling her and the Orc as he glanced around and tried to make sense of the situation. Uppon seeing that it was a false alarm, the Orsimer just brought his hand up to his face and ran it down shaking his head as his tired eyes adjusted to the light or lack thereof. The Bosmer couldn't help but feel guilty, Bologra needed his rest, after last night's ordeal... "Sorry... I didn't see it." She whispered, referring to the rock as Bologra slowly sturred in his place, stretching and yawning loudly. "Nah... It's fine..." He uttered, rubbing the back of his head as his senses came back to him, taking his turn to wince as he had to deal with the stiffness, the pain of the rock and wounds on his body, from the beating he took last night. "We need to be up soon, if we wanna get there by noon..." Deciding that, the Orsimer slowly pulled himself up, supporting himself on his remaining hand as he did so, which was surprisingly just as strong as ever. Arlas couldn't tear her gaze away from him as he stood up and proceeded to rub his stump in the palm of his hand as the phantom pains shot through his forearms, they had been incresingly prevalent since his fight with Ymir's tribe. "How is it?" Arlas asked as her eyes fell on the stump on his arm, causing the Orc to glance up and shrug at her. "Hurts like hell lately..." He grumbled, raising his head so that his eyes met Arlas' before he sighed. "I think I banged it a few times, during the fight or maybe it's just all that excitement earlier's making it flare up, I dunno." "I don't think that it's normal to be running around the hills, fighting Nords, four days after having your hand cut off." Arlas commented as she approached it, taking a look at the stump herself as she tried to see if the wound had reopened, thankfully it hadn't it had been successfully cauterized and healed shut with a healing spell. In fact the stump had seemingly folded shut quite nicely. "Heh... Good thing I ain't 'normal.'" Bologra huffed, sounding quite proud of that fact as he always did like to go above and beyond, when it came to combat. Arlas smirked and shook her head, she could agree with that statement, Bologra was bizarre, even for an Orc as the few she had met were somewhat more disciplined, not as tough and nowhere near as fun. "Can you still feel it? Like before?" She asked, letting go of the braced arm and letting it fall back to Bologra's side before taking a step back, feeling like that was the only way that she would be able to see his face. He nodded as soon as it came into view... "Sometimes, still in the habbit of reachin' out for stuff with it. Thankfully I haven't forgotten in any fights yet, don't think my ghostly hand will be of much use in the middle of a fight." The Orc ended on a chuckle, earning himself a small smile from Arlas, which quickly faded as she looked a little guilty. "Y'know... Lorwel said that he'd fix your arm, once he was free." She pointed out, hoping to make the Orsimer feel a little better about it, though in truth she was skeptical of how much they could trust the Daedra's word. "You believe that?" Bologra asked, immediately, as if he was reading her mind. The Bosmer's concentration was broken and she quickly glanced up to him, pausing for a moment to think on it before shaking her head. "Well I'm not sure what to think, whether that's true or not, that means that I have to stay on his good side, if I want my hand back. I think I'd rather have one free hand than have both of them belonging to some Daedric Asshole, if my hand isn't gone? Then you can be damn sure that he's going to make me beg for it, hell, he'll probably make me beg for it even if it isn't. He then sighed and brought it up again, glancing down at it as he stared longingly... "Still wish that I could use it though... Like, make it useful again, maybe make it into a club or something?" The Orsimer asked, quickly looking to Arlas for advice, surprisingly she wasn't very knowledgeable, when it came to the topic of psychotic improvised weaponry. "I... Th-Think... I can help... with that..." The two of them fell silent as the faint voice grew louder and the faint shuffling of Nair's footsteps grew closer, prompting them to turn to him in surprise. They weren't expecting him to be on his feet any time soon, if not ever again. "Damn... You're tougher than you look Cat, hell, I was certain that you were a gonner..." Bologra blurted in surprise, getting a slight chuckle from the former bandit as he shook his head, grinning. "Your concern is... Heartwarming, my friend..." He replied, raising his battered face to reveal that his left eye was yellow and the area around it was purple with swelling. "B-But this one is... No stranger to a beating, t-takes more than a f-few punches to bring Nair Quicksilver down..." The Khajiit's voice was hoarse and slurred, non surprisingly, everything he said came out in a faint rasp and his breathing was quite long and drawn out, it echoed throughout the caves. Arlas' relieved smile somewhat fell at this, finding his life to be somewhat tragic that this became something that he aclimatized to. She wished that they could do more for him, for his pain but there was little that could be done here... "Well, as good as that is to hear... You really shouldn't be on your feet, we need to get you to Bruma." Arlas insisted, realising how much of a miracle it was that he was on his feet to begin with. "Aye, I agree... I'm in no condition to be fighting werewolves but I did overhear Bologra's predicament and I believe that I can help." "Oh?" Bologra asked, raising an eyebrow as he folded his arms, grinning. This should be good... "Yes... Well, the thing is? I grew up in a small village, Boarderwatch? Well, there we had a number of families, Khajiit, Argonians and a retired Imperial Guardsman, who's own people couldn't stand him. I think it was the racism, the man was so... racist, every Argonian was 'scaleback' this or 'baby eater' that and every Khajiit was a 'rug' or a 'scrote licker' or something..." "Heh... 'Scrote Licker...'" Bologra chuckled, getting a frown from Arlas, though she shouldn't really have expected anything better. "Yes, I was rather fond of that one myself. Sometimes I passed his house on purpose, just so he'd yell it at me. You'd think that a man who hated Argonians would move to... Bruma or Chorrol or something but Jaufree was an incredibly stubborn man." "So? What does this have to do with my hand?" Bologra asked, sounding both baffled and annoyed by Nair's rambly and irrelevant story. "Yes, yes... I was getting to that... You see, the man was a former Imperial Legionairy, who lost his hand, like you. Maybe that was the source of his hatred? Forever embittered by the loss of his true love..." "Why'd they keep him around if they hated him so much? I mean, there were more of you than there were of him, couldn't you have him thrown out on his ass?" Arlas asked, her choice of language got Nair to raise an eyebrow before giving her a meak smile and a shrug. "Well, he was harmless and he was also a seasoned warrior... If anything attacked the town, he was always the first to draw his weapon and investigate and he was probably the best combatant out of any of us. That and some believe that he was in league with skooma dealers. Either way, it doesn't matter, he was better with us than against us, so we let him stay." "The point, get to it!" Bologra snapped, through a growl that slipped through gritted teeth as he rythumically tapped his arm, tempted to finish off what Ymir started at this rate. "Sorry, well... You see the man had an arm brace, like yours and our blacksmith was able to fit it with a blade, you know for shanking your enemies. I figured that you could use something like that, to give you an upper hand in your next battle..." He then paused as he reflected on what he had just said, sighing heavily. "No pun intended." "Hmm... Well, that does sound better than just lettin' it hang by my side..." He thought, stroking his thick, black beard with his remaining hand as he remained deep in thought. "Too bad we don't have a blacksmith though..." He concluded as he lowered his hand to his side again, shrugging. "No but you could go to see the one in Bruma, when we stop by... If we stop by..." The two mer fell silent as they turned to face eachother, realising that he wasn't conscious, when they formed their plan, though their plan was incredibly loose. "We were hoping to reach the boarder today and get the axe, we'll leave you in Bruma and collect you on the way back." Arlas explained, giving Nair the somewhat sadening news. "Ah... I see, I presumed, that since you were both so injured and exhausted that I'd have a few days to recover but considering that I owe you my life, what little I have of it left, I feel somewhat honorbound to see this thing through. We should go up and get the Axe together, whilst Ymir's bunch are getting their acts together..." "Ymir?" Arlas asked, having not heard the name before, she quickly realised that Ymir must be the old man but she was unsure as to how Nair could know that. "Yeah... I heard one of them call him that, there was another guy, Hareld. Long hair, younger looking one?" "Oh, him? Yeah, I shot him with a lightning bolt... Several times." The Bosmer replied, releasing a slight smirk as she did so, remembering the young Nord bouncing down the encampment. She wondered if he'd survived being burried under that tent, since, in spite of him trying to harm her friends and her, she couldn't hold it against him enough to wish death uppon him. "Glad he got what was coming to him..." Nair wheezed, doubling over and clutching his gut as he shook his head, viciously. "Nair... You can't travel, you can barely stand. We need to get you to Bruma, to the healers there, it'll be warm and the Priests can help tend to your injuries." "I'll... Be okay, for a few more hours." The Khajiit protested, softly, much to Arlas' concern. "No, you won't be and even if you were, anything could happen. We could get held up, we could get attacked, those Nords could track us down again and that's ignoring the fact that we're in the coldest part of Cyrodiil, heading even farther north. We're getting you to Bruma, where we're going to stay for a few hours and recooperate, get re-equipped and get ourselves some potions before heading up to the cave. We'll get a decent night's sleep and set off first thing tomorrow morning, with or without Nair, if we have to go without you, we'll pick you up on the way back." Bologra stepped in, finding himself to be both amazed and incredibly annoyed at this change in plan, he stood between the Bosmer and the Khajiit, folding his arms. "Wait... Hold on, I thought we were going to get this axe today. You tellin' me we've got to piss the rest of today away, because the..." "Scrote licker..." Nair suggested, helpfully. "Scrote licker woke up early!" "Yes, that's exactly what I'm saying." Arlas replied, shortly as she glared at the Orc, finding herself to be somewhat frustrated at his lack of empathy for his comrade. "Look, we'd be lying if we said that Nair was the only one struggling right now, you were almost beaten to death and I took a boot to the face, last night and we've barely had any sleep since. We need some time to recover, we need some time to recover and get back on our feet before heading out, just one day is all that I'm asking for, okay?" Bologra remained silent, tempted to keep the argument going but he saw her point, even he wasn't feeling great and if there was a troll living in that cave, then they would probably be done for. They being Nair and Arlas of course, Bologra would still probably beat the shit out of the troll but he wouldn't be able to protect the others as well. "A'ight..." He agreed, sighing heavily as if he was abiding by something abhorent, which he was really, never shying away from a challenge and whatnot. "You can have tonight but tomorrow? I'm getting that axe, whether you people are ready or not." "Fine by me, that's all I ask." Arlas replied, giving the Orsimer a slight smile before turning back to Nair. "Will you need Bologra to carry you?" "Ah... No, I think I'd rather keep my dignity intact, if that's alright." The Khajiit replied, sheepishly, giving Bologra a grin. "Okay, we'll slow things up a bit for you, don't be afraid to ask us to slow down if it's getting a bit much, okay?" "Sure, though you should remember that I've recieved a good kicking and haven't aged sixty five years, I should be alright." "Good... Let's get to Bruma before we're all as old and ugly as 'Ymir.'" The Orsimer cut in, impatiently, wading past them and marching to the front door, quickly prompting Arlas and Nair to grab their stuff and follow him out. "I don't think that you're that far from being there, my friend." The Khajiit mocked, getting a smirk from Arlas as she walked along beside him, appreciating the fact that Bologra just opened the door and let it fall back in front of their faces, though it was done out of carelessness, not malice, so she couldn't really complain. "Y'know... You're surprisingly a little more talkative this morning." She pointed out to the former bandit as she opened the door for him and let him stumble through, seeing that Bologra had already begun his ascent. "Hmm? Oh, well, I suppose it's because things aren't as awkward between us... Y'know? Mind you, saying that, it is only two days ago that I was holding you at sword point..." "You mean 'two days ago since Bologra kicked your tail back to the path and then saved it from a werewolf.'" Arlas corrected him, with a mischievous grin, getting a slight chuckle out of the cat as he scratched his head. "Yes... Isn't that what I just said?" "Fair dos..." The Bosmer shrugged, not really knowing what to say to that as she glanced over her shoulder and saw how far away the cave had gotten already. The group had seriously veered off course, whilst fleeing Ymir and his people, it may have confused them even more. "I'm surprised that you came back for me, to be honest... Given how we met and how little I grew on you people before I was taken, I honestly didn't think that I'd see you again, whether I survived or not..." Nair explained, hobbling along a bit as his injured ankle began to flare up again, making the Khajiit feel more accident prone than ever. Arlas smiled, giving him a slight shrug as she did so, still following Bologra as they drew in closer to the road. "Well, I wouldn't be a very good 'Queen' if I left you to... Ymir, now would I?" "Ha, I suppose not. Though most Queens usually benefit from their husband's demise, in terms of power and wealth as well as the respect of the people." "Even Bandit Queens?" "Especially Bandit Queens, in fact, they're the worst kind. Poisoning their beloved's food and drink, stabbing him in bed, real treachorous sorts..." "All of that stuff's too obvious though, now if he was to wake up to find that he was trapped in his tent, alone, with a conjured Dremora..." The Bosmer replied as a scheme formed inside her head, getting a faint chuckle from the Khajiit before he stopped to compose himself, getting the Accolyte to stop as well, to make sure that he was okay. Nair quickly dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand before pulling his back up straight a little, keeping his broad grin. "We'll make a bandit Queen out of you yet..." He smirked before hobbling onwards, north along the Silver Road, towards the Nordic City of Bruma. Category:Blog posts Category:Stories Category:The Legend of Nirn